Light & Life
by StormWarning27
Summary: After Smaug drove the dwarves from Erebor, Thorin was determined to guide and protect his people. Raising his nephews, Fili & Kili, was one task he had not expected to inherit. My take on the years before "The Hobbit". Combined Book & Movie verse, probably more of the movie though. Slightly AU due to some timeline butchering, no slash. Rated T for violence in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: Leaves of Autumn

A/N: Hello, people! This is my first fanfic, I hope you enjoy it. Longer A/N after the chappie.

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Thorin turned about slowly, examining the trees around him. It was odd to be here, a dwarf among the trees; he could almost feel their disapproval. But something had stopped him, catching his attention and holding him back when he should be moving forward.

Perhaps it was the silence, the strange silence of the forest that was so foreign to the children of Aule, that had snared the dwarf. For there was a peace here that he had not felt since before the dragon. So, for now, Thorin would walk amongst the trees.

The forest was shining. Lit by the golden rays of a westering sun, the leaves glowed crimson, orange, and yellow, as fair as jewels. A light wind whispered by, causing the shining leaves to dance merrily, and Thorin felt an odd feeling stir in his breast.

He was no elf, to be thus enamored of the woods, but he could not deny that he could almost hear a gentle song threading through the living tapestry that surrounded him.

It was autumn, and the leaves were dying. Never would they be more beautiful than now, just before winter would come and they would be no more.

Bitterness vaunted itself in Thorin's soul, scattering shadows through his thoughts. So had Erebor fallen at its height, and now his people were wanderers and outcasts, staring into a hard future that offered no hope. The dwarves of the Lonely Mountain tried to stand as strong as stalwart as the trees, but they would fall and fade like the leaves. Their season was over; the line of Durìn would fail.

"My Lord Thorin!" The gruff, breathless voice of a dwarf broke the stillness.

Thorin turned and recognized one of his soldiers, though he couldn't place a name with the dark-bearded face. "Is something wrong at camp?" Thorin asked impatiently, concern lending his voice a sharp edge.

"Your sister, Lady Dìs—her time has come!"

Thorin burst past the other dwarf, moving with great urgency. Dìs had never borne a child before, and Thorin was afraid the nomadic existence they had been forced into would cause complications. Upon arriving in the sprawling encampment, Thorin didn't slow down, and caused many dwarves to look at him in bewilderment. After all, it wasn't every day that you saw the usually self-possessed dwarf prince tearing through the camp at a mad pace.

Winded by his sprint, Thorin pulled up in front of his sister's tent to find Balin smiling at him indulgently. Mustering his dignity, Thorin quirked an eyebrow upwards in a questioning manner.

"I'm afraid that you're late, Thorin. The child is here."

Disbelief and chagrin danced across the younger dwarf's proud features for a moment. "All is well, then?" He asked.

In reply, Balin stepped to the side and brushed the tent flap back with one hand. "Go and meet your nephew, Thorin."

Stepping inside the tent, Thorin stopped briefly to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. A pallet had been arranged in the center of the tent, and Dìs lay on it with a tired yet pleased expression on her face. Dark hair clung to her forehead in sweaty ringlets, making her face seem much too pale. Her husband, Nìri, knelt beside her, grinning broadly. Oìn stood to the side, holding a small bundle in his arms.

"Come, Thorin, quit gawking. Don't you want to meet my beautiful son?" Dìs asked gently teasing. Oìn stepped forward and held the bundle out to Thorin, his grim face lighting up with an unexpected smile.

Taking the blanketed babe in his arms, the dwarf prince looked down at the newborn in awe. Downy golden hair circled the tiny face like a halo, and bright blue eyes examined Thorin with surprising clarity.

"His name?" Thorin whispered quietly, running a rough finger down the child's tiny jaw line.

"Fìli." Nìri proclaimed proudly, giving his wife's hand a gentle squeeze.

Allowing a smile to creep over his face, Thorin held his nephew closer. Running his hands through Fìli's wispy yellow hair, the dwarf was suddenly reminded of the golden sunlight illuminating the leaves. His breath hitched in his throat and a strange mist burned in his eyes.

Hope had returned to the house of Durìn. Theirs was not the frail, dying gold of the leaves, but the gold that was dug from the earth and would withstand the ages. The dwarves of Erebor were a people who would not fail.

"Thorin?" Dìs asked softly, a concerned frown marring her serene expression.

"You should be proud, sister, he is a fine child."

"Tell me your thoughts, brother." Dìs commanded darkly.

"It was just a thought—nothing more." Thorin knelt by his sister, and brushed her hair back from her face gently. "All our recent days have been so dark. But now I have hope, Dìs."

The dwarf-woman accepted the simple explanation with understanding. "This child shall be strong like his uncle."

"No, he shall be strong like the trees."

And if any of the dwarves were confused by this strange statement, none commentated on it. Right now they would treasure this moment of hope, knowing it would light the dark days ahead.

* * *

A/N: So, whaddya think so far? Short, I know. The next chapter will be a little darker. Alright, I'm not terribly familiar with what went on after the dwarves left the Lonely Mountain, so I'm just kinda putting stuff in whatever order pleases me most. Purists don't get angry! So, what's the point of this fic, you ask? Well, I wanted to write a fic that basically explained how Fili & Kili ended up being the dwarves that we see in the movie and how their relationship with their uncle was formed. Expect lots of fluff, humor, action, and... stuff.

Next chapter, we see the aftermath of the battle for Moria and Kili gets born! Yay!


	2. Chapter 2: Chill of Winter

__A/N: StormWarning Productions is pleased to present... Chapter Two! A huge thank you to everyone who favorited, reviewed, and put the story on alert (I can't believe that I've got followers, I feel like freakin' _Ghandi)_. Seriously, you light up my life, people, _you light up my life_. There will be another A/N after the chappie, enjoy!

* * *

_This is my winter song to you_

_The storm is coming soon_

_It rolls in from the sea_

The battle was over, but his people were still dying. Some had died before they could be reached, others had died on the return journey, many now died waiting on aid.

Thorin was hurt. Joints ached, muscles burned, head pounded with fever and fatigue. He was soaked in his own blood and covered in grime and filth. But deeper and more painful was the hurt in his soul.

Invisible teeth gnawed on his bones, turning his blood to ice and his heart shrank away from the pain, covering itself in layers of stone. Thorin made no complaint, though, for any cry he could raise would simply be lost in the tumult around him.

Outside, the wind whistled past the rocky mountains, raising a blank white wall of snow. Inside, the scenes of suffering and death were painted in fiery scarlet. The stench of blood stained the air, and the weeping and moaning of the wounded rose in a clamorous song. All around, the dead lay in silence, their eyes fixed on the cavernous ceilings above.

Cold was the sorrow that clutched and tore at the heart of the dwarf, but no tears came. He had watched his grandfather beheaded by Azog, the Defiler; his brother Frerin had been hacked to pieces by the orcs, and his father had been driven mad by his grief. Thorin would not allow himself to be destroyed like Thrain had been, so he buried the tears.

_This is my winter song_

_December never felt so wrong_

'_Cause you're not where you belong_

_Inside my arms_

Wandering among the wounded, Thorin would occasionally stop to offer some small comfort to those who faced death, kneeling by their side and holding their hands, watching the light of life slowly fade from their eyes. Death was in his eyes, and it was all he could see.

"Thorin." Dwalin's voice, rough with emotion, roused Thorin from his dark thoughts. Dwalin's face was streaked with dirt and tears, but his expression was hard, his mouth firm and eyes unflinching. He had already locked his sorrow away.

"It's Lady Dìs—her time has come. The baby is coming early."

When the battered and broken dwarves army had returned to the Blue Mountains, Dìs had discovered that she had lost her grandfather, father, brother, and husband. Like Thrain, her sadness had driven her to the edge of her sanity, and she had collapsed.

"Where is she?" Thorin asked, lurching to his feet unsteadily.

Dwalin's large hand rested heavily on his shoulder, effectively stopping him. "Thorin… Oìn says she's too weak for this. We'll likely lose her, and… we might lose the baby as well."

Thorin's last reserve of strength crumpled within him, but he gritted his teeth and remained standing. "Take me to my sister."

Dwalin nodded and led the new king towards the edge of the large room. Dìs lay on a cot by the wall, tears running from her eyes, gasping in pain and choking on sobs. Oìn was wiping her brow with a cloth, whispering assurances that never made it into the dwarf woman's awareness. The healer's own arm was bandaged and he looked ready to collapse.

Thorin took Oìn's place by his sister's side, taking her hands into his. Her dark eyes turned to him, her tears glittering like diamonds in her eyes. The dwarf wasn't even aware when Dwalin left or when Oìn began preparing to deliver the baby.

_My voice; a beacon in the night_

_My words will be your light_

_To carry you to me_

"Thorin…" She whispered weakly. "Where are the others? Where is my husband?"

"Shh." Thorin soothed. "You'll see him soon."

The hope that sprang into Dìs' eyes twisted like a cold knife in his soul, but Thorin just smiled.

"Why does it hurt, Thorin? What is wrong? Where is Nìri?"

"He's coming, soon, dear one. Hush, don't worry."

Oìn declared that Dìs needed to push, and Thorin relayed the message to his sister. Somehow, she seemed to understand. A strangled scream escaped Dìs' lips, and pain twisted her fair features. A new cry rose as hers faded. The shrill wail of a child new born. Thorin was vaguely aware of Oìn telling him that the baby was a boy.

"Did you hear that, Dìs? You have another son."

"Fìli? Where is he? Is he alright?" Confused eyes searched the room, looking for Fìli's little golden head.

"No, sister. Your _new_ son."

The female dwarf continued to search for her son, deaf to the cries of her second born. Oìn had placed the infant in a cradle and left to tend the soldiers who desperately needed his attention. The baby continued to cry, his sharp little voice mixing with the sounds of suffering around him.

Fighting back tears, Thorin squeezed his sister's hand. "What shall we call the baby? What is his name?"

But Dìs could not hear him. A slow smile was spreading over her face, as her eyes focused on some point over Thorin's shoulder.

"Dìs, you cannot abandon your sons!" Thorin's command was unheard though, for Dìs was dead. Feeling left Thorin, and he was set adrift. What he felt, he did not know. It was a dark, nameless confusion that blinded him to the world. He bowed himself until his head rested on Dìs' shoulder, but he did not cry. How long he sat like this, he did not know, his mind was completely blank.

A sound, or rather a sensation brought Thorin to himself. What had changed? Thorin lifted his head wearily and slowly looked around, trying to discover what the difference was. Suddenly he realized what it was.

The baby was no longer crying.

Rising so quickly that a gasp escaped his lips, Thorin crossed the distance between the cot and the cradle in a few long strides. His heart pounded with worry, and he cursed himself for his negligence. Obviously, Oìn would not have left if the child had been in danger, but the baby had been born early and anything could have happened…

The sight inside the cradle stopped Thorin in his tracks.

_They say that things just cannot grow_

_Beneath the winter snow_

_Or so I have been told_

_They say we're buried far_

_Just like a distant star_

_I simply cannot hold_

Curled protectively around his baby brother, eyes closed in sleep, was Fìli. The baby had also fallen asleep, dark lashes the same color as his hair fanned out against his ruddy skin.

Alarm rose in Thorin's breast. How had Fìli escaped from his nanny? How had he been allowed in here, where there was so much suffering and death? But the dwarf-king also marveled at it. How had Fìli known to comfort his brother? Did the blond-headed youngster know his parents were dead?

Reaching into the cradle, Thorin lifted the tiny babe in his arms. He was smaller than any child Thorin had seen, and seemed as breakable as glass. A faint scowl marked the boy's tiny features, and his uncle chuckled. This would be a lively one.

Fìli stirred and rubbed his eyes, tiny mouth opening in a yawn. Eyes bright, he looked at Thorin in a manner far too serious for a five-year-old. "He was all lonely and sad… I'm sorry, I should leave." The little promptly began to crawl out of the cradle.

"Here, Fìli, come with me. There's something I… there's something you need to know."

"Oh? What's 'at?" The boy wriggled his hand into his uncle's grasp and happily followed him from the smelly, scary room.

"Well—" Thorin stopped, unsure as to how he should continue. Finally deciding that news of his parents' death could wait till the morrow, he knelt down in the dim passageway beside his nephew.

"Would you like a brother?"

Fìli's eyes widened in amazement, and a huge grin spread across his face. "I'd love a brother, Uncle Thorin! But—but how—" the youngster's face screwed up in confusion. "How are you gonna get me a brother?"

Thorin smiled and held the baby forward. "This is your brother."

Awe crept over the blond-haired boy's face. "His hair… looks like Mama's." A small hand ghosted over the wavy locks, and Thorin struggled to maintain his composure.

"What's 'is name?"

A brief pause, and then, "His name is Kìli."

Fìli giggled. "But it sounds just like _my_ name!"

"Of course, that way everyone will know that you're brothers."

If there was any fault in Thorin's logic, Fìli did not find it. He leaned over and planted a big, wet kiss right in the middle of his brother's face. "We're gonna be the best brothers ever!"

Standing back up, Thorin took his nephew's hand again and they continued walking.

Glancing back down again, Thorin felt his sorrow creep over him again. What kind of a life would this baby have? No father, no mother, no home. Born on a day when many had died, born in the midst of suffering and pain.

And yet, maybe that, in and of itself, was something of a miracle. Life had been born in the midst of death, had somehow found a way. Winter's grip was strong, but spring would soon free itself from its icy hold.

The wounds would eventually heal, leaving behind nothing more than a memory and a scar. Memory could overwhelm at times though, and in those times one had to fight the darkness and hold on tightly to that which would always find a way:

Life.

_I still believe in summer days_

_The seasons always change_

_And life will find a way_

_Is love alive?_

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think of that one? Was it dark, sad, or melodramatic? Please review and tell me what you think! *hinthint* The lyrics were to "Winter Song" by Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson. It really captures the mood of this chapter. If you haven't heard it, go check it out, asap!

Also, I don't own The Hobbit. Or the dwarves, for that matter (darn it!)

Alright, so the chapters are mostly just gonna be these one-shot type things up until Fili & Kili are about 13 & 8 respectively, then I'll introduce some kind of a plot. Any ideas?


	3. Chapter 3: The Forge

A/N: Yay! Another chapter! I'm sorry, but this one is rather short and angsty and doesn't have Kìli :-(

I wrote it in less than an hour, at like six o'clock in the morning, so it might not be as good as I think it is. Which means it may not be good at ALL. Tell me what you think.

I just felt that Fìli needed to deal with his parents' death, and I had this idea, so... Besides, the next chapter will be longer :-) There's an important A/N after the fic, so be sure to read it!

* * *

Fili felt tears of frustration in his eyes. Couldn't his uncle see that he just couldn't do this? Throwing down his hammer, the young dwarf stubbornly crossed his arms across his chest and bowed his head, unwilling to meet Thorin's gaze.

"You can't give up, Fìli." Thorin's voice was soft, yet somehow rose above the noise and heat of the forge. All around the pair, dwarves worked at their chosen trade, and the sound of metal striking metal was deafening.

Swallowing the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him, Fìli began to shake his head. "But I can't do this!"

Thorin lifted the small hammer, one that had been made especially for his tiny hands when he had been a child, and held it out to his nephew. "Of course you can, boy, it's in your blood."

An aggrieved sigh rose from the tip of Fìli's toes and seemed to contain all the sorrow in the tiny child. "No." The one word seemed to have a bitter edge to it, and Thorin knelt down so he could meet Fìli's eyes.

Concern furrowed the dwarf-king's brow and he placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "What's _really_ wrong?"

Looking up uncertainly through his thick golden hair, Fìli began to speak, his words slowly stumbling from the tip of his tongue. "I hurt, uncle, deep inside. There's an ache inside me, like I'm hungry but nothing I eat makes me full or takes the pain away." He paused, his eyes stinging. "I can't stop thinking about Mum and Da, and I'm sad and confused and… and angry." A soft pink flush covered Fìli's face as he said the last part, and he lowered his eyes in shame. "I'm angry at them for leaving."

Thorin's heart ached for his young nephew, who struggled to understand why his parents had left him. It had been two years since Dìs and Nìri had died, and Fìli had started becoming increasingly fretful and moody. The knowledge of what his parents' death really meant was slowly coming to the young dwarf, and his grief was now much stronger than it had been.

"Fìli, why do we melt the metal down?"

Head raising in surprise, Fìli pondered the question. "So that we can make it into something else." He finally replied.

"Yes, that is right. Within every piece of metal lies the potential for a great blade or a mighty axe. But that metal must go through fire and water, and only a master's hand can shape it into anything useful.

"So, too, we must be forged. Like the metal, only fire—sorrow, pain, moments of great decision—can melt us down so that we can be reshaped. The new shape you take will be determined by how you react in moments of doubt or fear. And, sometimes, those who endure the most, will eventually overcome the most."

Thorin's voice stuck in his throat, his mind revisiting painful memories. "Sometime's Mahal's hammer must beat very hard to shape us into what we need to be."

Looking closely at his uncle's intense expression, Fìli saw the sincerity that lay behind a mask of tears. Thorin had witnessed tragedies untold and he had come through the fire better for it somehow.

Lifting his chain, eyes glinting in stubborn determination as he made a solemn vow. "I will always remember Mother and Father, and I shall tell Kìli everything about them, so that he can remind me of them in times when I might forget. He needs to know something of them, and I think… I think they would not want me to grieve overlong." The last part was a pained whisper, spoken hesitantly and with a touch of regret.

Shining blue eyes turned on Thorin again, and the dwarf was struck by the odd understanding Fìli sometimes seemed to possess. What was in the soul of the youngster would make a truly great dwarf, in time.

"You are right, Fìli. If we dwell on our sorrow too long, it poisons us. We must continue on."

A small, fierce smile lit up Fìli's face. "Come then, uncle, this blade shan't forge itself."

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A/N: Alright, I have some important info for my dear readers. I have decided that this story shall be a collection of oneshots, drabbles, and ficlets that focus on the relationship between Thorin, Fili, and Kili, and will cover important events in their lives that take place before their journey to reclaim Erebor. Any fics that I write that have an actual plot will be posted as another story. Btw, have any of you checked out the prologue for my other story, The Singing Vale? If you haven't, you should go and read & review it! *End shameless self-promotion*

Now, I would like to take time to thank everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed. All of you have brought me to the edge of tears, you've made me so happy. My head could possibly explode. Whoever added this story to the community for the Thorin/Fili/Kili fics made me smile so big it hurt. Thank you all *hugs*.

Alright, so the next chapter will be called "Days Like These" and will feature grumpy Thorin, mischevious Fili&Kili, mass dwarf hysteria, and gratuitous mud related violence! Please review!


	4. Chapter 4: Days Like These Part I

A/N: An update! Woot! I couldn't wait to post this chapter, so I split it into two parts. Part 2 is still being written up, and will be posted tomorrow or the day after.

**_HOLY FREAKIN' CRAP I'M GOING TO GO AND SEE FILI AND KIL—I MEAN, THE HOBBIT AGAIN TODAY! AAAHHHHHH!_**

Anyway, a huge thank you to everyone who has continued to read, I hope this chapter pleases you ;-)

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It had all gone wrong. From the very second his eyes had opened, Thorin had regretted waking up.

For starters, he had had the most incredible headache. It had started as a sharp pain right between his eyes, and had then slowly migrated to the back of his head and taken up residence as a constant, dull throbbing. If it kept up like that, Thorin was afraid something would burst.

Then, of course, it had to be raining. Something between a drizzle and a downpour—and it had been doing it since several hours before dawn, effectively turning the entire world into a mud puddle.

Thorin Oakenshield, exiled King Under the Mountain, had been turned into a passable imitation of a drowned rat only minutes after leaving his home. It was very hard not to be upset by this turn of events.

Venturing out of the Blue Mountains to find work was not something Thorin enjoyed doing, but it was a necessary evil, since his people were outcasts there. The dwarves of the Blue Mountains made it clear that they considered the dwarves from Erebor a nuisance. Thorin's pride smarted bitterly under their derision, for they seemed to delight in mocking the displaced king.

So for now, Thorin chose to distance himself as much as possible from those who _should_ have aided them and sought work in nearby villages, doing simple metalworking. His pride could take the strain.

Besides, there were people depending on him. Very important people.

oOo

It was going to be a great day.

Fìli had woken up early and was disappointed to find that Thorin had already left, but that only marred the young dwarf's expectations a little.

Today, Dala was going to take Fìli and Kìli on a picnic. Outside. Where the world was wide and waiting to be explored. What kind of things would the brothers do today? Fìli couldn't wait to find out.

Kìli was the next to wake up, announcing his awakening with a squeaky impersonation of a dwarvish battle cry Dwalin had taught the brothers. Why Kìli felt it necessary to shout _Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu! (Axes of the dwarves! The dwarves are upon you!) _every morning, Fìli did not know.

At five years old, Kìli was a ball of frantic energy, constantly in motion and constantly in some form of trouble. He had learned to climb before he had learned to walk, and spent entire days asking difficult questions _("Dwalin, where'd your hair go? Uncle, why don't you have a big beard? When will _I_ be the older brother, Fìli? Can I be you after you're tired of being you, Uncle?")_.

Compared to his younger brother, Fìli was as steady as a rock, though somehow Kìli always managed to pull him into some sort of mischief. Fìli discovered a certain knack for pranks, his clever mind always creating devious plans to amuse his brother.

Just yesterday, Fìli had cut halfway through all the legs on one of the long wooden benches in the feasting hall, so that it had collapsed during the middle of supper. Thorin hadn't been pleased—along with the twenty-odd dwarves that had been unceremoniously dumped in the floor while eating—but the smile on Kìli's face had been worth the reprimand.

Now, Kìli popped up in front of his brother, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. His mop of dark hair was sticking up all over the place; a strong contrast to Fìli's neat golden braids.

"How did you sleep, brother?" Fìli inquired gently.

"Good. Where's Uncle? Has Dala woken up yet? I'm hungry. Are we—"

Fìli raised his hands in protest, giggling a little. "Breathe, squirrel. I wouldn't want you to die before breakfast."

Kìli scowled darkly at his brother, which served only to make him cuter and significantly less threatening.

"How about some porridge?" Fìli asked, making his way over to the small fireplace to the side. He began gathering kindling and firewood, for the fire had gone out during the night. It occurred to Fìli briefly (very briefly) that he had never made porridge before, and that it might be prudent to go wake Dala. _Don't be a baby, Fìli, if you can build a fire, you can make some porridge. _

Besides, how hard could it be?

oOo

Dala considered herself a patient dwarf. Patience, of course, not being a common trait amongst dwarves and therefore a relative term. But her latest charges considered it their sworn duty to tax her dearly won, carefully maintained, long-suffering nature, pushing her to the limit of her endurance with their wild shenanigans.

Not three days ago, little Kìli had assayed to climb up her back and sit on her head as she knelt stoking the fireplace. It was as though she had a sign on her back that said "Mount Dala: Please conquer."

When the irate nanny asked the young dwarf what had possessed him to do such a thing, he calmly replied that he had wanted to see the world as _she _saw it and then asked if all dwarves became ugly when they were old or was it just her? _Too old, _she thought, _I'm just too old. _

Now, she had the unenviable task of informing the young miscreants that there was to be no picnic that day, nor on any day that was so rainy and muddy. Did the gods hate her? It would explain a lot. Of course, first she had to clean up the mess that was Fìli's attempt at breakfast.

Dala had been quite confused to come into the small kitchen area that morning to see Fìli and Kìli beating a flaming pot of oatmeal with her two best brooms. The brooms were ruined now, of course. ("Why would anyone need that many brooms, anyway?" Fìli sulked.)

So, when Dala finally explained that they could not go out as promised, she did so in tone that—later—she recognized as being somewhat harsh.

"But _why_?" Fìli asked, his plaintive whine grating on Dala's last nerve.

"Because it is far too wet and muddy to go outside today. Why, what would your uncle say if he came home to find the two of you down sick with colds?"

"We're not _babies_, Dala, we won't get sick." Kìli said very patiently, as if he were explaining this to some sort of simpleton.

His tone only served to make Dala more irritated. "In Durin's name you won't! No, today shall be a day without schemes, pranks, or incidents." _And no more flaming oatmeal._

"Today, you shall remain indoors and… read. Your uncle wants you to better your mind." _Doubtless so you can create harebrained tomfoolery with greater ease_, the dwarf woman thought bitterly. Thorin, along with his own siblings, had been a little troublemaker when he _was_ young, and he probably took malicious delight in seeing his nephews continue the tradition.

"But Kìli can't read yet!" Fìli protested.

"Then you should read out loud, so you can both hear."

Kìli ran up to her and fisted his tiny hands in her skirts, eyes wide and pleading. "Please please _please_ let us go outside!"

Resolve wavering slightly, Dala stopped to reconsider—_oh heavens, I was almost taken in by the puppy-eyes_. "Not today, dear one. Come, and I'll fix the two of you a proper breakfast."

Fìli followed reluctantly, feet dragging. This just wasn't _fair_…

oOo

Fìli stared at the parchment in front of him blankly and realized that he had just read the same line seven times. Sitting back in aggravation, he shook his head stubbornly. He couldn't sit here and read! His mind had already taken off on adventures through tangled underbrush and over rock and water. Usually, like all dwarves, living under the mountains didn't bother him, but he had been promised a trip outside and that made staying _inside _an insufferable trial.

Kìli sat beside him, chin propped up on his hands, puffing up his cheeks and then noisily exhaling. "Why can't we go outside?" He chirped inquisitively.

"Because Dala says it's raining." Fìli replied dully. Of course, a small part of him believed that the nanny had kept them inside as punishment for the porridge fiasco. Not that she had said that, of course, but she had been terribly upset over those dumb brooms.

"I like to play in the rain." Kìli said, for seemingly no reason.

Fìli's head came up sharply, a strange light entering his eyes. "Maybe Dala doesn't have to know. Kìli, is Dala sleeping? Quick, go see!"

Kìli jumped up in excitement and scampered off to investigate. He returned a second later and jubilantly whispered "She's snorin'!"

A devilish smile curved the ends of Fìli's lips upwards. "Come on, then. Quietly! If she catches us she'll tell uncle Thorin."

Making a quick detour into the kitchen, they quickly gathered some bread and cheese and stuffed it into an old, leather saddlebag that Balin had given them. Then, cloaked and hooded, they set out.

The two dwarflings scurried through the rocky passageways, trying to look inconspicuous and failing miserably. They passed unquestioned until they got the gate. After a moment of anxious waiting, they were given the opportunity to escape when Kìli dropped a large, wriggly earthworm down the back of a dwarf woman's dress. While the guards at the gate watched her strange performance (it looked like a dance of some kind—lots of flailing and shaking punctuated by short, high-pitched squeaks) the brothers slipped chuckling into the forest.

Once in the forest, the brothers played and explored in reckless abandon, unaware of the distress their departure had caused.

* * *

A/N: There you are folks, a very uninspiring cliffie. I feel so evil. There's going to be a dwarf mud battle in Part 2, so keep an eye out for the next chapter!

OK, shout out time! Thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed! Nothing is more encouraging to an author than reviews, and my stories would not get far without your kind words. I'd especially like to thank the following:

Comics4theFeels

Estoma

Autumn

Nalbal

black-ostia

dancingbunnies

Naril

silverwolfneko-chan

BM originally

PrincessMnMz

These reviews were really, really encouraging.


	5. Chapter 5: Days Like These Part II

A/N: Once again, let me clearly state that I do not own these wonderful characters, I'm just bringing them to life for my own amusement :-)

Now that that painful exercise is over, I give you Part II! The promised mud battle takes place (I hope you all enjoy it!) and there is a surprising amount of angst, as well. This chapter turned out much angstier than anticipated. Also, since chapter three was all about Thorin and Fili, I added a tiny little Thorin and Kili moment at the end (it almost made me cry, I don't know why, though).

There's another A/N after the chappie!

* * *

Dala was worried. Very worried. And she was not a dwarf to worry lightly. No, this was a very serious affair.

She had misplaced Fìli and Kìli. She had _lost _the nephews of Thorin Oakenshield. Her life was over.

Finally, in desperation, Dala asked Balin for help. Before the afternoon had progressed much further, every dwarf located in the general area was searching for the wayward boys.

When the news came that they were not to be found in the living apartments, and were therefore either in the mines, the forges, or outside, fear fluttered coldly in Dala's chest.

The mines were filled with caverns that dropped hundreds of feet down into darkness, and the forges were filled with huge furnaces, and if they had gone outside…

Thoughts of wild animals and kidnappers filled the nanny's mind, and she clapped a hand over her mouth in horror. What had she done? _What will I do without those two devils?_

A younger dwarf arrived at her side, abruptly cutting into her dark thoughts. The look of terror on the dwarf's face stabbed into the old woman's heart and she clutched his shoulder desperately. "What is it?"

"Thorin has returned." There was a look of pity in the messenger's eyes, but Dala was too dazed to see it.

"I—I shall go to him and… explain." Pale but resolute, she set out. If anything had happened to Fìli and Kìli, then anything Thorin said or did to her was well-deserved.

oOo

Thorin was upset, bordering on murderous indignation. The journey had been grueling, the work had been sparse, and the profit had been nonexistent. His clothes were soaked, he was filthy, and he just wanted a warm meal and a tankard of good ale.

But no. Some idiot dwarf had pounced on him as soon as he was through the door and started blathering about the weather. The weather! As if Thorin hadn't had enough of the weather already! Thankfully, days like these were rare

Before Thorin could get his majestic self into a proper rage, Dala appeared. The look on her face killed his anger with a swift and sudden hand. _Where are Fìli and Kìli? Where are my nephews? _

"Dala?" Thorin said quietly, his voice revealing nothing of his sudden dread. "Who's watching Fìli and Kìli?"

When she spoke, Dala's usually strong voice was trembling and filled with uncharacteristic self-reproach. "I'm sorry, my lord. But they have been missing for the past three hours."

Though her words sent searing waves of panic through his very soul, Thorin took the blow without any outward flinch, his face set in a hard, impassive mask. This was the face he wore before a battle, when life was on the line and feelings had to be put to the side so what was necessary could be done. This was the face of a man who was prepared for the worst.

Ready for anything now, Thorin began barking out orders. "You', he said, fixing a flinty glare on the messenger, 'bring me Balin and Dwalin and tell all the dwarves of Erebor to gather into three groups and wait in the feasting halls."

The dwarf leapt into action with an involuntary squeak. Thorin turned his gaze to the far wall and began to speak softly, his voice tinged with a menacing edge. "It was not your fault, Dala. As king of Erebor, I have many enemies. Even many _here_', he eyed the dwarves of the Blue Mountains darkly, 'would delight to see me brought low. Perhaps someone saw Fìli and Kìli as a means of revenge."

The words tasted ill on his tongue, and seemed to hang in the air between the two dwarves. Dala clasped her wrinkled hands in front of her and said nothing, her face grey and pensive.

Twenty minutes later, all the exiled dwarves of the Lonely Mountain had separated into three groups. Dwalin's group went to the mines, Balin's to the forges, and Thorin's into the forest. Not a single dwarf in any of the three groups would give up the search till those two dwarflings were safe at home.

OOo

Fìli hadn't planned on having a mud war, knowing that it would defeat the purpose of sneaking back into the mountain fortress without revealing their disobedience. How could they have claimed to have spent the entire day reading if they were covered in mud? Even _they_ couldn't get _that_ dirty while reading.

They had sat down by the river to eat their bread and cheese, and had chosen a location that sloped gradually down towards the water. The slope was a muddy, slippery mess, of course, but they did not find that out right away.

Kìli, curious as ever, had wandered over towards the river to investigate. He had hardly set one foot on the slope, then his feet slid out from under him with a wet slurping sound. Down the hill he slid on his bottom, too surprised to cry out.

Fìli had turned just in time to see his brother's head vanish from sight and jumped up with an alarmed shout. "Kìli!"

Peering over the edge, the blond was relieved to see Kìli sitting unharmed on the riverbank. Kìli, however, was on the verge of tears. He had been given specific instructions by Fìli that he had to stay as clean as possible. This had been important, and Kìli had messed up.

Fìli eased himself down the slope and knelt by his brother. He saw the shame on Kìli's face and the tears that threatened to fall. Not knowing what else to do, Fìli gathered as much mud as he could with both hands, and plopped it onto his own head with a satisfying _splat! _

The change that came over his little brother was immediate and satisfying. Brown eyes widened in surprise, and giggles shook his tiny body. Gathering a handful of mud, Kìli smeared it into his face, laughing as hard as he could.

Fìli reached down and refilled his hands, setting a pile of gooey brown mud on Kìli's head like a crown. With a squeak, Kìli began flinging mud at his brother as fast as he could. Laughing, Fìli scrambled back up the hill, tossing handfuls of mud towards his brother.

Had Fìli and Kìli been ordinary children, this would skirmish would have been a half-hearted ordeal that would have ended very quickly. But Fìli and Kìli were not ordinary children. Fueled by the fire of their dwarvish blood, the brothers turned the simple game into a mud battle of epic proportions.

The mud flew thick and fast with alarming, speed, range, and accuracy. Fierce cries echoed through the trees and across the river, their ferocity only slightly lessened by the fact that the combatants were obviously children.

Fìli was stronger, and had a better grasp of strategy, but Kìli was a small target and naturally agile. Surpisingly, he also seemed to have naturally good aim.

As time passed, the dwarflings became so absorbed in their battle that they no longer paid heed to anything else. Fìli had finally cornered his brother by the bank of the river, and was intent on tackling him to the ground and tickling his foe to death.

Kìli had other plans though. In a last ditch effort to save himself, the younger dwarf scraped some mud together meticuously, patting it into a loose ball shape. Taking careful aim, Kìli hauled his arm back and sent the mud missile into the air as hard as he could. Sailing through the air with beautiful form, the ball completely missed the intended target.

And hit Thorin in the face.

The smiles slipped from Fìli and Kìli's faces as the full import of what had just occurred hit them. This was worse than when they had taken one of Balin's pipes and attempted smoking, an incident that reached a climax when they accidentally set fire to Dala's beard. And that had been _bad_.

"Fìli. Kìli." Thorin said calmly. A drop of mud dripped from his chin. Fìli bit back the urge to laugh.

Thorin had never felt so ridiculous. One minute, he'd been running through the forest, imagining the worst, the next he'd been getting a faceful of mud. He should have known his nephews hadn't been kidnapped. He wasn't that lucky.

When the dwarves first started searching outside, they'd separated into groups of two and three. Thorin had left the two dwarves that had been with him behind, tired of hearing them talk about the 'poor, wee lads' as though they were already dead. Hearing children's voices by the river, Thorin had went thither as fast as he could, crashing through the brush in a mad dash.

And this is what he had found. More mud slid from his face and landed on the ground with a loud plop. Fìli giggled, quite by accident.

Two long strides brought Thorin right in front of his oldest nephew. All of the day's frustration and anxiety mixed with his relief at finding his nephews, and his anger at their truancy and disobedience. Without thinking, he knelt down, grabbed some mud, and slowly mashed it into the dwarfling's face.

No one was more astonished by this than Thorin himself. He was suddenly and deeply ashamed of himself for acting like a half-witted dwarfling instead of a king—

"_Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" (Axes of the dwarves! The dwarves are upon you!)_ Before Thorin could begin his trip down the perilous path of self-loathing, he found himself bowled over by an under-sized five-year-old dwarf.

Knocked off balance, the dwarf king sprawled unceremoniously in the mud, Kìli sitting on top of him giggling triumphantly. With a roar, Thorin grabbed his youngest nephew and lifted him into the air, before rolling him gently into the mud.

Fìli joined in with a cry, dumping handfuls of the cold mud down the back of his uncle's shirt. Gasping in surprise, Thorin turned to deal with this new threat; wrestling Fìli to the ground and tickling him mercilessly.

"Kìli, help me!" Fìli managed to yell in between breathless giggles. The dark-haired youngster responded by plastering the side of Thorin's head with a thick coating of mud. The thick paste congealed in the dignified dwarf's hair, making him look like a wild man.

Snatching Kìli off of his feet once more, Thorin pinned the lad against his side and continued to tickle Fìli until tears ran down the blond's cheeks.

"Had enough?" Thorin asked, laughing softly himself. It was then that the dwarf realized his headache was gone. He was… happy. Unable to speak, Fìli just nodded.

Smile deepening, Thorin picked up Fìli as well. "Come, every dwarf from here to the Misty Mountains is searching for you, we should get back and tell them your safe."

With a muddy, giggling nephew pinned under each arm, Thorin began to march back through the woods.

oOo

Thorin made quite an entrance, coming out of the twilight as he did, covered in mud and holding two wriggling dwarflings in his arms. The grim look on his face killed the laughter before it began, and made it worse after he was gone.

Dala was beside herself, of course, and scolded Fìli and Kìli even as she wiped the mud from their faces and scrubbed it from their hair. Once the two had humbly apologized for their actions, and promised to never do such a thing again, Dala had hugged them both fiercely and shed a relieved tear.

When the wee devils had been bathed, dressed in nightclothes, and secreted in their beds, the nanny allowed herself a moment to stop and recover. What a day! She was thankful that days like these were rare.

Thorin sat before the fire in his big, comfortable chair, puffing contentedly on his pipe. Today had been exhausting, and if he wasn't careful, he'd fall asleep here in his chair.

Thoughts unconsciously returning to the more memorable events of the day, Thorin allowed himself a small smile. The day had begun horribly, became worse, and then inexplicably switched directions. It had ultimately become something completely different from the norm. Something wonderful; something _rare_. His eyes were about to close in sleep when a small voice roused him.

"Uncle?"

Raising his weary head, Thorin saw a little dark head regarding him thoughtfully from the doorway. "What is it, Kìli?"

"Can I sit in here with you?" Kìli sidled into the room somewhat, his eyes impossibly large and pleading.

Common sense told Thorin to say 'no', and normally he would have listened. But earlier that day, as he had been running through the forest searching for his nephews, thinking he would never see them again—a trembling hand reached out towards the child. "Come." Thorin commanded gently.

Kìli's feet patted softly across the floor and he threw himself unreservedly into his beloved uncle's arms. Thorin gathered the young dwarf to himself carefully, thinking on how tiny and vulnerable the child was. How if anything ever happened to either of the boys, Thorin would never forgive himself.

Aye, but he was becoming maudlin.

But when Kìli laid his head on Thorin's shoulder and sleepily mumbled, "I love you, uncle," Thorin didn't hesitate to plant a soft kiss on the boy's forehead.

After all, days like these were rare.

* * *

A/N: Was Thorin OOC in this chapter? I hope not. Tell me what you think.

Right quick, I wanted to make a small note about Fili & Kili's ages. Whenever I say, 'so-in-so is five years old' or such like, I mean that they're that old in human years. I have no idea how old they'd be in dwarf years.

Also, I don't know exactly how long this fic will be, but I want to try to cover all the years that took place before the events in The Hobbit. So, although there won't be a grand, over-reaching plot, there will be recurring characters, themes, and story-arcs.

In addition, I may or may not do gap-fillers for the movie/book, but I will definitely include my take on the Battle of the Five Armies as the last chapter. You've been warned.

Thanks again to all who have been following the story and leaving reviews! Don't stop!


	6. Chapter 6: Questions & Answers

**A/N: I finally updated! It's the end of the world, people! I am soooo sorry it took me so long to update; 2013 has not been off to a good start. I had to work 14 1/2 hours yesterday, after working for around 10 hours the two days prior. I was so pooped my poop was pooped. Bleurgh.**

**Anyway. 100 reviews?! Seriously?! You guys are AMAZING. Thank you!**

**So, on to the story. I decided to give Fili & Kili a puppy. I think it will be good for them; caring for a pet will teach them responsibility and develop good character. I haven't told Uncle Thorin yet, though.**

**I'm kinda worried.**

* * *

"Oh, bother this!" Fìli said, throwing himself dramatically into a chair.

It was nearing the end of their week-long confinement, and the brothers were about to wither away and die from boredom. Every adult dwarf that knew them had been watching them like hawks, and they hadn't a single moment of fun the entire week.

Thorin had been especially moody. The entire incident had awakened a great fear within him—a fear that something would happen to his nephews. This fear was carefully masked by a stern face, though, and Fìli assumed he was just being mean.

Kìli had fared better, since asking questions was very entertaining and wasn't considered dangerous in the least. He didn't _quite _understand why he wasn't allowed to go climbing all over everything like he normally would, and 'falling and breaking his head open' wasn't a satisfactory reason. And certainly not one of Dala's more interesting replies. Besides, a broken-open head would be very interesting to look at…

"Fìli?"

A sigh. "Yes, Kìli?"

"What's inside my head?"

Fìli seated himself sideways in the chair, his legs hanging over one of the armrests and swinging impatiently. At his brother's odd question, the older dwarfling raised an eyebrow in a passable imitation of their uncle. "Your brain, provided you have one."

"Oh." Kìli chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. "What's a brain look like?"

"I don't know."

"If my head was broke-open and my brain fell out, would I die?"

Fìli scowled. "Why do you ask _so _many questions?"

"Because there's _so _many questions to be asked!" Kìli replied without the slightest pause, smiling brightly. Sometimes older people, even Fìli, could be so thick.

"Well, go ask them of someone else!" Fìli said in frustration, now completely upside down in the chair, his hair collecting on the ground and his bare feet propped up on the chair's back.

Little Kìli wilted in defeat. "But no one else listens to me!"

"_Everyone _listens to you." Fìli's eyes narrowed. "I bet you can't walk across the feasting hall without getting at least _three _people to listen to your crazy questions."

Chest puffing in pride, Kìli rose to the challenge. "We'll see about that!" So saying, he hopped to his feet and scampered off as fast as his legs could carry him. Fìli sighed happily. _Peace, at last…_

oOo

It was a well-known fact amongst dwarves that Thorin Oakenshield's youngest nephew was almost constantly in trouble. Therefore, he had been marked as an errant troublemaker and other dwarfling's were warned by their mothers not to associate with the boy, lest his odd personality should rub off on them.

It wasn't that Kìli was a bad child, he was just very curious and impulsive, more so than the average dwarf, and couldn't help but follow through with every crazy notion that came into his head. Loving excitement as much as he did meant that what other people would call 'trouble', he called 'fun'.

Standing on tiptoe, Kìli leaned over and looked into the large feasting hall.

There was a fireplace on either end, and blazing fires burned there day and night. Long low tables ran the length of the room, and dwarves gathered here to eat, drink, and smoke while they talked of mines and gold. It was not as fine as most dwarven halls, but it was still very fine.

Fìli and Kìli did not come here often, for they weren't interested in mining, gold, or other generally accepted dwarvish things. They preferred tales of distant lands and heroic deeds; the blood of their forefathers running like fire through their veins, setting them apart for a special purpose.

But for now, they were just Fìli and Kìli, two mischievous brothers who shared a special bond and dreamed of growing up to be like their uncle.

The large room was mostly empty right now, but Kìli noticed a group of dwarves gathered in the corner, puffing their pipes and filling the hall with smoke rings and laughter. Boldly he approached the group, practically bouncing over to them even though they were all strangers.

For a moment, Kìli stood outside their circle, silently observing the grown-up dwarves. They were all long-bearded and jolly and fat, and smiled to himself before jumping right into the midst of them. It was more likely that _they _would be frightened of _him_.

The dwarves fell silent and stared at this strange child who had so boldly inserted himself into their group. Dark eyes inspected them curiously, and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Hullo." He chirped with a friendly smile.

The jolliest dwarf of them (he wore a funny hat that made him look as though he had two huge, floppy ears) leaned forward and regarded Kìli with a kind smile. "And who might _you_ be, lad?"

"Kìli!" Said dwarfling announced gleefully, as though that was all the introduction he needed. Strangely enough, it was.

"Not Thorin Oakenshield's nephew?" The dwarves all shared a look. If so, then this child was practically a prince.

"How did you know that?" Kìli asked in dumbfounded awe.

"Ye could say yer uncle's a mite famous," Said the jolly dwarf again, with a friendly wink. "What brings ye here than, laddie?"

"Well, Fìli made a bet and said I had to come an' get three people to listen to me so I could ask them questions 'cause I said they wouldn't so you can't listen 'cause that's what I said. So, I hafta ask questions and you hafta listen."

Wait, no; that wasn't right. His own words had made no sense to him once they were spoken, causing Kìli to chew on his bottom lip and try to remember the terms of the bet. Were the dwarves supposed to listen to him, or was it the other way around? Or was it simply something else altogether?

Before the young dwarf could confuse himself further, the bellowing laughter of the dwarves cut into his thoughts and made him look at them somewhat askance. His glance took in something else though and he leaned forward in interest.

There, nestled inside the jolly dwarf's woolen jacket, was a puppy. Its long front legs stuck out awkwardly and ended in paws that were bigger than Kìli's hands. The pup's coarse fur was a beautiful snowy white, and it had soulful brown eyes and a cute black nose.

The dwarf in the funny hat noticed the boy's interest in the dog and pulled it out of his coat and set it on the floor. "A man on the road gave me that pup for nothin', an' he'll be fine hound when he's grown."

Sinking to his knees immediately, Kìli began coaxing the puppy over. Without hesitation, the young dog ambled over, its tail whipping back and forth in excitement. It was almost as big as the dwarfling, and Kìli couldn't escape its pink tongue the pink tongue that began to coat his face generously with puppy drool.

The dwarves watched the interaction between child and animal with indulgent smiles on their faces, for they were good, wholesome people who enjoyed the simple joys of life. The dwarf with the floppy hat—Bofur was his name—smiled brightly down at the pair, an idea forming in his head.

As a simple toymaker, Bofur had no use for such a fine hound, yet he was fond of the pup and needed to find it a new home with people who would care for it. And here was this wee child with his outlandish notions and impertinent little smile, a young princeling who would doubtless grow up to be a noble warrior. The two were a fine fit, Bofur decided.

Rubbing the soft fur on the inside of the puppy's ears, Kìli chuckled and jabbered quietly, his words for the dog only.

"Do ye have a little dog of your own, lad?" Bofur questioned.

"No, Uncle says dwarves haven't much use for dogs." Kìli replied regretfully, scratching the puppy underneath its chin.

"Nonsense! Everyone could use a good hound, right Bifur?" One of the other dwarves nodded somberly.

"Ye see, laddie,' Bofur leaned forward, his voice dropping in a conspiratorial whisper, 'I don't need a pup like that. I'm always movin' around an' I wouldn't be able to care for it proper-like. But I'm certain a fine young dwarf like you would do an excellent job of raising this dog. And your uncle would be glad for you to take on the responsibility."

Eyes brightening, Kìli nodded vigorously. Everything the dwarf said made perfect sense to the boy and besides, maybe this would cheer Fìli up.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" Kìli squeaked, gathering the pup in his arms. Dala had shown him the proper way to lift a dog—one arm supporting its rump and the other supporting its chest—but not on a dog that was almost the same size as him.

"Careful now, laddie, and you take good care of that pup, y' hear?" Bofur said, patting the boy's head and giving him a friendly push towards the door.

Lit up with happiness, Kìli staggered back towards his home, his original purpose in visiting the feasting hall quite forgotten.

oOo

Fìli was sitting against the wall now, staring listlessly into space. His sanity felt like it was being slowly mined away by an army of really tiny dwarves. Any minute now start screaming and never stop; and they'd find him lying here on the floor, dead, and then they'd be sorry. Of course, Kìli would be sad, and Fìli didn't want that…

Thoughts turning to his younger brother, Fìli wondered if it had really been wise to send him off like that. Thorin was away again—Fìli knew not where—and Dala had gone to get some more bread (she never had time to cook any herself), and Fìli was supposed to be watching Kìli. Now he felt really dumb.

Before he could stand up and set out to find his brother, Kìli charged through the door and collapsed with a loud huff at his brother's feet.

"Look, Fìli, look… what I… got!" Kìli managed to get out, panting from the exertion of running through the hallways of the dwarf kingdom with an armful of oversized puppy.

The blond child's mouth opened, and then closed. Opened again, and then snapped shut. Fìli still couldn't process the sight in front of him. _What in Durin's name will Uncle say about _this?

Kìli was on his knees, sitting back on his heels, his arms wrapped around a white, wriggling pup with legs too long and paws too big.

"Do you like him, Fìli? Do you like him?" Dark eyes widening in an innocent, puppy-like expression, Kìli looked at his brother expectantly. The hope in his eyes, his guileless desire to see his brother happy, made Fìli's eyes burn and a lump fill his throat.

"I love him, squirrel." Thorin would never allow them to keep the animal, but Fìli wasn't about to bring _that_ up. Besides, a puppy could be a lot of fun…

oOo

Puppies were a _lot_ of fun. First, the brothers had filled a bowl with water and set in on the floor for the dog to drink, then they had gathered a few items of old clothing and arranged a nest in the corner. The pup had playfully torn the nest apart right away, clenching a small tunic in its teeth and shaking it like a kill.

Laughing, the dwarfling's had joined in the fun, capering about on hands and knees, growling and barking. The puppy had started barking too, and they were all embroiled in a howling contest when Thorin and Dala walked through the door.

Cheeks red with shame, Fìli jumped to his feet with a surprised "Uncle!"

Still on his hands and knees, Kìli sidled over and clamped his teeth onto a mouthful of his uncle's trouser leg and started pulling on it, still growling fearsomely. The pup just sat down and cocked its head to the side, one ear flopping over.

Dala's mouth fell open as she surveyed the scene; ripped up clothes, spilled water, and a puddle of something she suspected was _not _water.

"Fìli." Thorin greeted quietly, watching as his youngest nephew tried to chew a hole through his pant's leg. "What is going on?"

"Well, I, um…"

As Fìli struggled through the story—Kìli occasionally throwing in a helpful bark or yelp of agreement—the two adult dwarves listened in silence, expressions slowly becoming darker.

At the conclusion of the story, Thorin knelt down in front of Kìli and placed a hand on his tiny shoulder. In a gentle voice that was reserved exclusively for his nephews, Thorin issued his proclamation of doom: "I'm sorry, Kìli, but you cannot keep the dog."

Thorin did not retreat. He never ran; if there was to be conflict, he would meet it boldly and without a single shade of fear. So, when he picked the pup up and hastily departed, mumbling something about finding the dwarf responsible for the whole mess, he felt very ashamed.

He was Thorin Oakenshield. He had slain countless orcs, trolls, and wargs and yet he fled before the wails of a disappointed child. Retreat was an uncomfortable sensation, and Thorin had not relished the look of disappointment on Dala's face or the disbelief in Fìli's eyes. Worst of all were the tears that streamed down Kìli's cheeks.

After an hour of searching, Thorin was forced to admit that his was a futile effort. He would never find the "dwarf in a floppy hat" and return his contraband. With mortal embarrassment, Thorin finally gave in to the inevitable and retraced his steps.

When he returned, Fìli and Kìli were eating—or rather sitting at the table and pushing their food around their plates with dismal expressions on their little faces—and he stood in the doorway to the kitchen awkwardly, feeling like an idiot.

"Thorin! I thought you went to return the dog?" Dala asked, her voice faltering in confusion. Both Fìli and Kìli looked up, their eyes wide and hopeful.

"I couldn't find him." Thorin set the animal down gingerly, regarding the animal in distaste. "I have… decided to—as long as you take care of it—let you keep the dog." Thorin didn't know why he had decided to do this; the dog was a hound, for Durin's sake, and would likely grow to monstrous size. What use would dwarves have for a hound the size of a pony?

While the squeals of joy that assaulted his hearing may have hurt his ears, they did not hurt his heart. The boys were back on the floor, happily welcoming their new friend back into the fold. _Well, perhaps the boys can ride it when it is grown_,Thorin decided, amused at the image of his nephews astride a great white dog.

Dala's eyebrow curved in surprise at Thorin's decision, then she smiled at at him fondly. _There's the dwarf I used to know. _

"What will you call the pup?" Dala asked the boys, after their celebrations had become less noisy.

Without hesitation, Kìli piped up and said "Frerin."

Dala bit back a gasp, and Fìli chewed his lip nervously. "That's not a good name, Kìli, pick a different one." Fìli remembered that his other uncle, Frerin, had left

Before Kìli could protest, Thorin's quiet interjection cut him off. "No, Frerin is a fine name. If he bears it half as well as the dwarf who once did, he will be a hound worthy of legend."

Thorin's fine speech was mostly lost his youngest nephew, but his sentiments were not. Face splitting in a grateful smile, Kìli threw himself into his uncle's arms. Fìli, too, jumped up and hugged his uncle, and Thorin returned the embrace whole-heartedly.

"I have news, nephews." He said, once they broke apart. "There will be a meeting of our kin to the north, in Ered Luin. I am going, and I have decided to take you with me."

Two pairs of eyes went round. "And Dala too?" Kìli asked.

Thorin glanced at the nurse, who nodded. "Yes, and Dala."

"And Frerin, what about Frerin?" Kìli pulled the puppy close to his chest.

Thorin couldn't stand against the power of two sets of pleading puppy-dog eyes.

"Frerin may come as well."

Twin cheers rose and echoed off the ceiling. Dancing and cavorting around the floor, the dwarflings happily discussed all the things they would see and do, while their uncle begged the higher powers for mercy.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

**A/N: So, our favorite dwarf family will be going on a journey? How exciting! As for the geography, I noticed on a map of Middle Earth that the Ered Luin mountains were in the northwestern corner of the world, and that there was a smaller mountain range, simply titled as the "Blue Mountains" in the southwestern corner. I decided to place Thorin and Co. as being in the smaller Blue Mountains (although I'm pretty sure "Ered Luin" would be translated as "blue mountains", lol).**

**As I mentioned before the chapter, this story has now reached 100 reviews. Would anyone like to make that 150? I know it's a tall order (50 reviews for just one chapter) but I think you can do it! Reviews coax my fickle muses into singing sweet songs of dwarf-angst and brotherly fluff. **

**The next chapter will be called "The Wide World" and will feature the dwarves setting out for Ered Luin. Along the way, they will meet up with elves, men, and other creatures new to the young dwarflings. Stay tuned!**


	7. Chapter 7: The Wide World

**A/N: I am SOOOO sorry! I got sick and all the inspiration was sucked from my brain. I had so much trouble with this chapter it isn't even funny.**

**Anyway... 131 reviews?! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I love you all _so freakin' much_. *hands out imaginary baskets of muffins* Longer A/N after the chappie!**

* * *

Blue eyes opened suddenly in a blur of golden lashes. Today was the day!

Fìli jumped out of bed and flew across the room, long, uncombed hair flying wildly behind him. Stopping breathless beside his brother's bed, Fìli reached out and began to shake the smaller dwarf.

"Wake up, Kìli, wake up! Today's the day!"

Eyes only half open, Kìli sat up and slid into the floor, his body sluggishly responding to his sudden demand for movement. Frerin bounded out of the bed and yapped excitedly, tail wagging happily.

"Frerin!" Kìli whined as the long tail thwacked him in the face.

"Hurry up and get dressed, squirrel, Uncle said that he wanted to leave right after breakfast."

Snatching up the clothes that Dala had laid out for them, Fìli deposited Kìli's on top of his head in a heap, before hurriedly putting on his own.

Now dressed, Fìli looked down at his brother and sighed. Not only had Kìli put his shirt on backwards, but he had only put one arm through a sleeve and his other arm stuck out of the neck hole, pointing straight up into the air. Kìli was trying to pull on his leggings with one arm, and didn't seem to realize that his efforts were being impeded by Frerin, who assumed he was trying to play tug-o-war and had clamped his teeth down on the leggings and was pulling with all his might.

With another sigh, Fìli intervened in the great Leggings Feud of the Third Age of Middle Earth, and tried to put Kìli's clothes on where they were _supposed _to go.

"Now, let's go to the kitchen and see what Dala has fixed for breakfast." Fìli pulled his brother to his feet, then took hold of his shoulders and steered him in the right direction.

About halfway to the kitchen, Kìli finally realized that he was awake. Twisting from his brother's grip, Kìli tried to turn and face his brother. This caused Fìli's forward momentum to send them both the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Thus they rolled rather ungracefully into the kitchen.

Dala looked up and impassively regarded the two-headed, eight-limbed creature that had sprawled itself at her feet. She was not surprised at this nonsense; with these dwarflings, nonsense was a foregone conclusion.

"Goodness! What foul spawn of Ungoliant is this? Never have I seen a spider with two heads before." Dala declared.

"It's us, Dala!" Kìli squeaked from his perch atop his brother's shoulders. Fìli was laying on his back, pinned to the ground by the younger sibling. Smiling gleefully, Fìli pushed himself upwards, causing Kìli to tumble into the floor.

Before either party could declare war, Dala plunked two bowls of porridge on the table. "Eat hearty, my dears, you'll need your strength."

The nurse was dressed in sturdy traveling clothes, and her hair was bound tightly in a single braid. Kìli adored her frizzy grey hair, which poofed out wildly and was a lot of fun to play with. Dala, of course, did not appreciate the high regard Kìli had for her locks.

All through breakfast, the brothers chattered endlessly. They excitedly discussed what they would see, and do, and the adventures they would have. Dala listened stoically, wondering how either youngster could possibly make sense of the high speed conversation.

Once the dwarflings tired of pretending to eat—they were far too excited for something as bland as oatmeal—Dala helped them into their new cloaks and boots, which Thorin had given to them especially for this journey. Holding each child firmly by the hand and smiling fondly at their cheerful prattling, the dwarf woman guided them towards the gates that opened led to the wide, wide world that Fìli and Kìli longed to explore.

/

It was a day made for starting a journey. The clean morning light turned the beads of dew into diamonds, and the grass glittered green and gold. Mist rose lazily, a white cloak that carelessly adorned the late spring morning. There was a refreshing bite to the air, for the nights were still cool. It would be hot later though.

Thorin was already astride his pony, and waited patiently for his men to settle down so he could issue a few last commands before their journey began.

Dwalin finally silenced the dwarves with a shout. "Alright, you lot, quiet down so Thorin can have his say."

Sending the warrior an annoyed "I can do my own bellowing, thank you very much" look, Thorin addressed the company of dwarves in his most authoritative voice. "I don't expect there to be any trouble on this journey, for we shall be traveling through peaceful lands, but I want each one of you to be on your guard. I have decided to take my nephews with me to Ered Luin so that they may meet their kin.

"Fìli and Kìli are young, and high-spirited and will require careful looking-after. If trouble befalls them because of negligence I will not hesitate to dismiss the dwarf responsible. My nephews are my heirs, some of the last of the line of Durin, if we should encounter danger on this journey, defend them above all else."

The speech had barely ended when Dala appeared, smiling at Thorin as she approached. Fìli and Kìli flanked her, and she was hard-pressed to keep them in check once they caught sight of their uncle. Frerin was following them faithfully, and Thorin realized that he was beginning to accept the pup as a part of the… group. As a part of the group, not family.

Grimacing, Thorin motioned to the last two ponies, who were both rider-less, one of which was smaller than the others. "These will be your ponies, Dala and Fìli."

"What about me and Frerin?" Kìli asked indignantly. "Frerin's too little to walk all the way to Aired Loon."

Stifling the grin that threatened to take over his face, Thorin answered his nephew's concerns. "You shall ride with me and when Frerin is tired, we have a special bag for him to ride in."

All the last details taken care of, the group started off. Thorin led them, his youngest nephew seated in front of him, and Fìli riding beside them. Fìli's pony had been chosen based not only on its size, but on its calm temperament.

Dala rode behind them, talking with Balin and Dwalin came next. The brothers, Oin and Gloin, were there also, along with five other dwarves.

As they rode, Thorin regaled his nephews of his travels; telling them of mountains, rivers, and woodlands. He spoke of the people he had met, and dangers he had faced. Looking at their innocent faces, drinking in every word in breathless excitement, Thorin was reminded of when he had been a child.

Years and heartache had turned him bitter, he realized. Once it had been he and Frerin who had planned out all of the adventures they would have together, but all that had been torn from Thorin. The world was a hollow place, filled with disappointments and struggles.

Yet, as he smiled at Fìli and Kìli, and they smiled back at him, a small portion of their innocence crept into Thorin's weary and beleaguered spirit. The world was once again a wondrous place for hardened king, and he recaptured the long-forgotten joy of his youth, even if only for a day.

Chuckling softly at something Fìli said, Thorin held the squirming ball of life that was Kìli a little closer and a little tighter. This journey to "Aired Loon" would truly be one to remember.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, so the dwarves have started their little trip to Ered Luin. At this point, I'd like to ask if anyone's got any ideas for stuff that they should see/do/discover/encounter/whatever while on the trip. I've already got a few plans up my sleeve, but I'd love to hear from you!**

**Also, I've started another story that is a LOTR/Hobbit crossover entitled "Of Quest and Company", you should check it out!**

**One last thing, if you're wondering what Frerin the hound looks like, go to Google Images and search "white irish wolfhound". Those dogs are so beautiful!**


	8. Chapter 8: The First Sign of Trouble

**A/N: Well, there was a strong demand for some danger so here's a little to whet your appetites.**

* * *

It was a clap of thunder rolling across the green countryside, a boom that shook the air itself. It was the flash of lightning that lit the world blue for a half-second, before the world was immersed in an explosion of sound.

That was the first sign of trouble, the first sign that not all would be well on their journey.

The first four days of their travels passed in a slow procession of sunny days and starry nights, of white clouds drifting across blue skies, and the grass bending beneath gentle winds. Thorin watched his nephews with a careful eye, secretly finding joy in their small discoveries and adventures.

Now, on the afternoon of the fifth day, a storm caught them by surprise. The boiling clouds were black with rage, and the wind blew hot and wild. Drops of rain were driven like darts, faintly stinging exposed skin.

Another crash of thunder, and Kìli buried his head in his uncle's chest. Wrapping his great coat around his nephew, Thorin yelled at Dwalin and pointed towards Fìli. Understanding what Thorin wanted, Dwalin leaned over and plucked the dwarfling off his pony, pinning Fìli to his chest with one arm.

Fìli latched on to the warrior's burly arm with wide eyes. The youngster had never experienced the violence of a storm in spring. Catching sight of his brother's scared face peering out of Thorin's coat, Fìli tried to smile encouragingly. Kìli's teeth were chattering like they did when he was very frightened, and one small hand reached out for Fìli.

From inside his "bag" Frerin whined uncertainly and scratched at the door. His bag had been especially made for such a journey, and was made of soft leather with a sturdy wooden skeleton that gave it shape. A barred metal door had been put on the front, covering the front so that Frerin wouldn't fall out when the bag was hanging on the side of a moving pony.

"We must find shelter!" Thorin shouted above the wind.

The road they were on wound slowly around the sloping hills, offering no view of any shelter nearby. The rain pelted the earth, slowly building in intensity. Soon it was a blinding torrent that drowned the earth in sheets of grey.

Thorin spurred his pony on, searching through the storm for a place that would offer protection from the storm. Another flash of lightning illuminated a barn on the side of the pathway ahead. Relieved, the dwarf led the others that way, all bowed and bent against the rain.

The barn was theirs at last, and they crowded into it gratefully. It was an old barn, long abandoned, but there were no leaks in the roof and the walls kept out the wind. Once they were all inside, they closed the doors and began to dismount, tethering the ponies in a corner.

Thorin dismounted, still holding Kìli inside his coat. Handing off the reins of his pony to another dwarf, Thorin relieved Dwalin of Fìli and settled down with his back against one of the barn's support beams.

Still shivering from fright, his nephews bundled gratefully into the depths of his furry coat. Kìli snuggled down deep, happier now that both his uncle and brother were so close. Suddenly, it occurred to the dwarfling that two important members of their little family were missing.

"Dala? Where are you?"

"I'm here, child, don't fret." Dala appeared, shaking the water from her cloak.

"Where is Frerin? He's scared too." Kìli pointed out seriously, quite concerned for the welfare of his beloved dog. Receiving a nod of assent from Thorin, Dala fetched the pup and placed him in the arms of his young masters.

Fìli suppressed a childish giggle at the long-suffering, slightly disgruntled look his uncle shot the dog as it too snuggled into the warmth of his coat. It was _very _hard to be majestic when you had two dwarflings and a puppy wriggling around inside your coat.

The sound of rain beating on the roof and the thunder booming in the distance lulled the dwarves into a sleepy calm. Thorin sang softly, his deep voice rumbling comfortingly in the half-light, and his nephews slowly drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.

/

The storm was winding down when the sound of scratching sounded at the door. Dwalin and Thorin looked at each other uneasily. They were loathe to open the doors to anyone, even though this wasn't their barn. Balin rose and brushed the hay off his clothes. Covered in a pile of sleeping children as he was, Thorin was incapable of greeting the newcomers.

The scratching—caused by wandering hands searching for a way to pull the door open—turned to knocking. Balin and Dwalin opened the door and stood to the side, letting their visitors in with the rain.

They were a group that numbered five; a motley crew who had the look of those who lived in the wild, far from the comfort of towns and cities. Everything they owned seemed mismatched, as though they had gathered it from different sources and places. As though they had acquired it from an extensive and varied group of people.

As though they had stolen it.

Dwalin looked to Thorin, one hand gradually inching towards his axe handle. Thorin shook his head slightly; after all, they had no definitive proof that these people were dishonest. Even though Thorin was _almost _tempted to send them packing on principle alone.

Leading their horses into the center of the barn, the newcomers stood in by their mounts with uneasy looks on their faces. Being surrounded by well-armed, suspicious dwarves was no better than facing the storm. The leader of the group, a short—yet still taller than a dwarf—man with a constant smile plastered on his thin face, rubbed his hands together and chortled in a disagreeable fashion.

Balin bowed graciously, thinking to himself that this man was perhaps the ugliest individual he'd had the misfortune to encounter. His lank hair was shorn close to his head in uneven light brown layers, and despite being thin, his face seemed to possess an inordinate number of loose wrinkles.

"Dwarves! This is an unexpected sight." The man declared, ignoring Balin's polite bow.

Dwalin folded his arms across his broad chest and glowered at the man. "Your name?"

Startled by Dwalin's gruff inquiry, the slight man shuffled his feet and smiled uneasily. "Tom Pike, though most just call me Pike. These are my boys, Will, John, and Little Tom. And this is my brother, Andrew."

They were coarse, ignorant people. It clung to them like a second skin and gleamed dully in their eyes. Dwalin was inclined to toss them all out, but manners won the day and he was forced to endure their presence.

"Balin, at your service." Declared the venerable older dwarf. "And my brother, Dwalin."

"Are you the leader of these dwarves?" Pike asked with keen interest.

"Ah, no. That would be Thorin." Balin stepped aside, revealing Thorin with a flourish. Leaving out the many titles that Thorin possessed was intentional, for it would not do to reveal to these ruffians that they were in the presence of a king.

Pike quailed before Thorin's dark, unwavering gaze. Somehow, even with puppy drooling on his leg, Thorin was still majestic and intimidating.

Spotting the dwarf children on either side of Thorin, the man gathered a bit of courage and decided to speak again. Perhaps an inquiry about the dwarf's children would make him a bit more chatty.

"Are those your children?"

If anything, Thorin's gaze became more penetrating, his dark brows lowering over his flinty eyes. "What of it?"

"N—nothing, forgive me for prying." Pike backed away slowly, licking his lips anxiously.

"You can tether your horses there, in the corner." Balin said, trying to be pleasant and bring the awkwardness in the room down to a bearable level. All of the dwarves got up and all settled down on one side of the barn, veiled hostility in their eyes. _Well, I tried_,Balin thought resignedly.

"Well, then, we'll just, ah, settle down over, um, here." Pike cleared his throat and fidgeted nervously. Thorin hadn't said anything, and hadn't taken his eyes of the man.

_I know what you are_, the dwarf's eyes seemed to say, _and I'm watching you. _

Once the humans had shuffled off, Thorin relaxed a little. Dala leaned forward. "Do you want me to take them?" She asked, nodding towards Fìli and Kìli.

"Leave them, they're fine." Dala gave him a knowing smirk, which he ignored. It was because he didn't want to wake them, he told himself. If the nanny wanted to delude herself into thinking otherwise, Thorin wouldn't correct her.

The afternoon passed by slowly, and the soaking rain continued steadily. Thorin decided that they would stay the night in the barn, and assigned watches to the other dwarves, quietly warning them to keep a sharp eye on the humans.

Fìli and Kìli awoke before nightfall and demanded their supper. Thorin hushed them and instructed them in the proper way to ask for food.

"Sorry, Uncle." Fìli said, squirming uncomfortably.

"Who's them?" Kìli asked, pointing at the humans.

"They are no one, don't worry about it." Thorin said, picking Kìli up and setting him so that he was facing away from the men. Kìli turned around, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the strange giants.

"Why are they so big?" He asked, eyes wide.

"They're humans, they can't help it." Fìli told him, casting the men a piteous glance.

"Here, eat your food and quit talking." Dala said, handing each of them dried biscuits and an apple. She suppressed a sigh as Kìli broke off half of his and fed it to Frerin.

Fìli and Kìli played quietly, exploring the half of the barn that the dwarves inhabited. They had been sternly instructed to go nowhere near the men by Thorin, but that didn't stop them from watching the humans closely.

Kìli couldn't believe the size of them. Their arms and legs were so long and ungainly, and their facial features seemed too small for their large bodies. The dwarflings laughed at the giants quietly before slipping off into the shadows of the barn. Humans were funny creatures indeed.

Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, and Dala talked long into the night, quietly discussing the upcoming meeting in Ered Luin. Dwarves from all over Middle Earth were expected to come, and Thorin was going to propose reclaiming Erebor.

His desire to retake his home had been growing steadily over the years, increased by living in exile in the Blue Mountains. Losing everything and everyone in his life had sharpened the pain of homelessness, and watching his nephews grow up unaware of their royal heritage rankled the imperious dwarf king.

"I still think it isn't the right time." Balin said, frowning.

"We've been living as outcasts long enough, Balin. The others will see, I'm sure of it." Thorin said. "Erebor was once the greatest dwarf kingdom in Middle Earth; to have its glory restored would lift up our entire race. No longer would we be looked down on by elves and their kind."

"Perhaps Erebor cannot be reclaimed." Balin warned cautiously.

"I would pay any price to see honor restored to our home."

Before anything else could be said, Kìli jumped enthusiastically into his uncle's arms. "Tomorrow, can I ride with Fìli?"

Thorin considered the question carefully. Fìli had proved himself a capable rider, and their path was not a treacherous one. "Very well, but you must listen to your brother."

"Don't worry, I'll listen good! Fìli, did you hear? He said yes!" Kìli ran to rejoin his older brother and the two began excitedly about the next day.

Returning to their earlier conversation, Balin shook his head gravely. "Erebor is just a place, Thorin. Our future is in our children. Children like Fìli and Kìli. They will bring honor back to our people."

But Thorin's heart had already decided and he could not be swayed.

/

The next morning, the dwarves left the barn as quietly as possible, leaving the barn to the humans. The skies were still leaden and overcast, but the rain had ceased several hours before dawn.

Bundled tightly into their cloaks, Fìli and Kìli sat astride their pony yawning sleepily. Kìli laid his head on Fìli's back and stared tiredly into space. Thorin rode beside them, ready to reach out and steady any sleepy dwarflings who might chance to start leaning to the side.

Glad that the storm was over, the dwarves started out into the chilly grey morning. Hopefully today would not be as eventful as yesterday.

It was the sound of a river choked with water and overflowing its banks. It was the treacherous road that led too close to the river's edge, running along the top of a steep incline.

That was the first sign that today would be worse.

"We shouldn't risk this road." Thorin said, reining his pony in. "The mud is too loose and the river is too high."

The dwarves were all turning their ponies around when a rabbit bolted out of the bushes. It darted forward, going underneath the legs of Dala's pony. Zigzagging crazily, it flashed in and out of the pony's vision, causing it to buck wildly.

Kicking its back legs, the pony's left hind hoof caught Fìli and Kìli's pony in the side of the head, causing it to stumble towards the river. Part of the mud on the steep ridge gave way, sliding into river. The dwarfling's pony went down, front legs clawing for purchase as its hindquarters went over the edge.

Thorin leapt off his pony, sliding through the mud to the edge, one hand closing around Fìli's arm. Kìli held tightly to his brother, too frightened to scream. Grasping a root with his other hand, Thorin started to heave his nephews back up.

The boy's pony continued to slip towards the river. With one last valiant effort, it started to pull itself up as well.

Dwalin hurried to assist Thorin, but before he could get there, the entire embankment came loose with a sickening sound and slid into the swirling water. Shock took the warrior's breath and he stood staring into the river helplessly.

The muddy water slowly closed over the three dwarves, swallowing them whole. Thorin and his nephews had been sucked into the angry river in the blink of an eye.

They were gone.

* * *

**A/N: Don't you hate cliffhangers? I know I do!**

**The next few chapters will contain plenty of peril and we definitely haven't seen the last of Pike, believe me. His part in this story arc hasn't even begun yet.**

**Also, Frerin shall prove his worth to Thorin in the next few chapters, so stay tuned for that as well!**

**As always, don't forget to review and tell me what you think/submit an idea.**


	9. Chapter 9: A Land of Giants

**A/N: I am so sorry for the long wait! So far, 2013 has been a trying year, with some new problem popping up every week. This one month has been more stressful than all 12 months of 2012 combined :-/**

**Enough of my drama, on to the fic! I really struggled with this one, so it may not be up to par with the others. I still hope you enjoy it though!**

* * *

Gasping, Thorin awoke. Each breath felt like an icy blade raking his wounded throat, but breathing in the sweet air was worth the pain. There was not an inch of him that wasn't hurt. Lungs ached, head throbbed, and his limbs were sore from his battle against the river.

The frigid water had pounded his body until he could hardly take it anymore, the powerful current dragging him mercilessly through the silt and muck on the riverbed. Bruises and cuts riddled his flesh, parting gifts from the many rocks he had been driven against. Blood mingled with the water that dripped from his sodden clothes.

What had happened? The grey sky overhead offered no answer, nor did the swiftly rushing river. The dwarf was covered in filth and laying on the muddy bank. There was something important he should remember, Thorin knew. At last, the disorientation slowly faded, but with his new clarity of mind came gripping panic.

He had lost them.

Against the power of the river, his own strength had been nothing. Fili and Kili had been ripped from his arms and lost in the boiling, raging water. The current had beat his arms until they lost their strength and then stolen his nephews from him, replacing their bodies with a mocking nothingness.

Grinding his teeth, Thorin heaved his stiff body into a sitting position, his eyes searching the riverbank. There was no sign of Fili's golden hair or of the dark red cloak Kili had been wearing. A lump formed in Thorin's throat and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

What would he do if they were dead? Had they perished frightened and alone in the icy waters? Images of Fili's serene blue eyes, their light extinguished, filled Thorin's mind. The dwarf tried to remember Kili as he was—always moving, always talking—but all he could see was a tiny lifeless body.

Sickened, Thorin stumbled down to the river's edge. Pushing the horrifying images from his mind, he tried to focus on a logical course of action.

The other dwarves must not have made it this far down the river yet, else they would have found him. Should he go upstream and meet them, or go downstream and search on his own? Since there was no way to tell if Fili and Kili had washed up before or after him, Thorin struggled to decide. What if he the direction he chose led him away from them? What if they were only a few feet to one side, hidden from sight?

_What if they haven't washed up at all? _Thorin stubbornly resisted despair and instead made his decision. He would go downstream. Dwalin and Balin would search thoroughly, he knew, and they were on ponies so they would go faster. Likely they would catch up to him at some point during the day.

Scuffing his feet deeply in the mud, Thorin made sure that his footprints were as deep and obvious as possible. If the others were being as thorough as they should be, they would know he had been here.

Determination winning against infirmity, the dwarf set off.

/

It was the first time he had ever woken up first. Kili huddled against the cold, wrapping his arms around his legs and hugging his knees close to his chest. Chin nested in the small valley between his kneecaps, the child examined his brother with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Fili was always awake before him. Always meeting him with a smile, always laughing at his mussed hair, always teasing him and calling him "squirrel".

Golden hair had become tangled and filthy, two conditions that Fili would never allow it to become. Half of his face was swollen and covered in a large purple bruise and his arm lay twisted in an unnatural angle. Kili's own arm twinged in sympathy whenever he looked at the damaged limb.

More than anything, Kili wanted his brother's eyes to open. In them, he knew he'd see the light that had shone on him every day of his life. If Fili would only wake up and smile at him, then the cold would not bite so, the world would no longer seem big and unfriendly, and that small aching loneliness that had taken up residence in Kili's soul would be banished.

If only Fili would wake up.

Scooting a little closer to his unconscious brother, Kili grabbed a handful of his shirt and gave it a sharp tug. No response. The pull became more insistent, and Fili sighed in his sleep. When an even harder jerk yielded no results, Kili resorted to dirty tactics.

Grabbing a fistful of golden hair, Kili yanked it as hard as he could.

Fili's hand closed around his brother's arm a split second before his eyes opened. The pain and anger in the older dwarfling's eyes immediately caused Kili to shrink back.

"I'm s-sorry, Fili, but it's just so cold and you wouldn't wake up."

Trying to sit up caused pain to shoot through Fili's right arm, causing his whole body to ache. "Don't worry about it." Fili managed to gasp out through gritted teeth. Right now, he was hurting too badly to stay angry.

Teeth chattering, Kili huddled close to his brother again. "Can we go home now? I'm cold."

"I don't know where home is, Kili." Fili replied, panic edging into his voice. Another ripple of fiery pain in his arm caused him to hold it close with a sharp gasp.

"Uncle's looking for us though, he'll find us!" In a world that was suddenly impossibly large, Thorin was the one thing that remained strong enough to protect them. Kili knew with every fiber of his being that he would find them, just as he knew that Fili would keep him safe until then.

"Of course he will, squirrel." Fili faked a smile for his little brother. No sense in showing Kili how scared he was right now.

Fear briefly assuaged, Kili turned a curious eye on the world around them. Trees towered over them, rainwater slowly dripping from their bright green leaves. The wind blew the low grey clouds quickly across the sky, and the birds sang out joyfully after the storm. The river was still dangerously swollen, however, and the banks around it were extremely muddy.

"What's 'at?" Kili asked, pointing downstream. Jumping up, he began to move towards it.

Fili stood up slowly and staggered after his brother. When the river had separated them from their uncle, Fili had wrapped himself tightly around his brother, therefore taking all the abuse onto his own body. While he was covered in bumps and bruises, Kili remained unharmed. Looking at his arm made him feel sick, so he avoided glancing down at it. He was positive it was broken, though.

Pushing through the tall grass, Fili finally saw what had caught Kili's attention. It was an old dock, the wood rotting in places and riddled with holes. Half of the dilapidated structure was completely submerged. But Kili's wandering eyes had already noticed something else even more interesting.

Up ahead, a collection of low buildings squatted next to the river, dark and drab against the color of the lush grass around them. It was a town, but not of dwarvish make.

Grabbing his brother's hand, Kili attempted to drag Fili forward. "Come on, we can ask for help!"

Pulling him back sharply, Fili scolded the excited boy. "No, Kili, we shouldn't go there."

"Why not?"

"Because… because we don't know anyone there. The people there may be dangerous."

"But I'm hungry! And they probably know how to find Uncle. Please can we go, please?"

As he always did, Fili caved in to his brother's pleading expression. Oddly enough, Kili's argument made sense for once. Besides, he didn't want to be caught outside when night fell, and his arm was in so much pain.

Thankfully the path to the town was an easy one, and Fili was able to navigate it without jostling his arm too much. Beside him, Kili impatiently bounced up and down, anxious to reach the small settlement.

As they entered the human village, Fili clutched his brother closer to him in panic. Everything here was _huge_. The buildings glowered down at them menacingly, tall and obscure against the sky. The dwarf children had to crane their necks to see the faces of the people who towered above them. Never had Fili felt so tiny.

Kili, on the other hand, was completely unfazed. To him, this was a scene from one of his daydreams, unfolding before his very eyes. He and his brother were pilgrims stranded in a land of giants, on an adventure that was sure to become a thing of legend.

Up close, humans were even funnier looking than they were from a distance. How they managed to keep their balance on such spindly legs was beyond his understanding. Questions filled the dwarfling's inquisitive mind, and he started to ask a woman why she had no beard, when Fili pulled him back.

"Kili, you should know better! Didn't Dala explain to us that human women can't grow beards? Do you want to shame that woman by asking her such a question?"

Toeing the mud with a downcast expression, Kili mumbled "Sorry."

"No harm done, but try not to ask too many questions."

Spotting a group of children, Fili felt a little bit more hopeful. Children wouldn't be nearly as tall or as intimidating as the other humans. Even if they were still bigger. Kili was more than happy to lead the way over.

They were a ragged, misbegotten tribe; dressed in tattered clothes and covered in grime from playing in the streets. Their game was a noisy one, and they were an altogether brash and unruly lot. The leader of them, a tall, loudmouthed boy with a wide, plain face well endowed with freckles, gave the two newcomers a long once-over.

This boy's name was Col, and while he was not a cruel sort of child, he did not generally approve of folks that were very different from himself. And these two little waifs were _very _different from him. The pair of them were quite short for their age, Col discerned. The older boy was probably only a year or two younger than him, but was a good foot and a half shorter. The smaller boy was a tiny thing, though not as young as his size might suggest.

_Dwarves, _Col realized with a smirk.

It was the last difference, however, that rankled the boy the most. While his own clothes were mere rags, and his feet were bare, these two were dressed well, and wore sturdy boots. Whoever these dwarves were, they were well-cared for, and that stirred greater resentment in Col's soul.

"Well, well, lads. Look what we 'ave 'ere." Col crossed his bony arms across his narrow chest and looked down at the dwarflings with a superior air. "Two little 'uns what shouldn't 'ave been left on their own. These two are too _little _t' be away from their mum." The other boys left their game and surrounded Fili and Kili, taunting and looking down on the brothers.

Fili may have been hurt and scared, but he wasn't dead, and he was a son of Durin; _no one _would adopt such a tone with him. One eyebrow raising in a majestic manner, the young dwarf straightened himself and placed his uninjured arm on Kili's shoulder.

Fixing an impressive glare on Col, Fili spoke quietly. "My brother and I have been separated from our uncle. We need help."

The human boy felt intimidated by Fili, but masked it with an easy smile. "Did ye hear that one? Says they've gone and lost their uncle. Should we help 'em, lads?"

The boys all spoke at once, their voices mingling together and becoming unintelligible. But their meaning was clear; they had no intention of aiding the dwarf children. Fili felt himself becoming angrier and angrier. Beside him, Kili was becoming frightened of these tall, mocking boys who were all laughing at him.

Tears of frustration threatened to spill from Fili's eyes, and he valiantly tried to keep them in check. His pride, which was unusually well-developed for a boy of his age, was taking a horrible beating. It didn't help that his arm was beginning to hurt worse and worse.

Fili was almost to the end of his endurance when a wild-eyed, begrimed creature threw herself in between the dwarf and Col with an indignant shout.

"Now, Col, why must ye go an' treat 'em that way? Ain't ye got any feelins'? Ye best leave 'em be or I'll tell yer mum it was you what took that meat pie last Thursday!"

Face turning crimson in embarrassment, Col backed away from the verbal barrage being leveled his way by th newcomer. "Now, Brida, ye know we didn't mean nothin'." He said sullenly.

'Brida', a gangly female specimen with thin, pale hair and large blue eyes, merely folded her arms and pursed her lips. "I don't care what ye meant, can't ye see ye was scarin' the little 'uns?"

Now it was Fili's turn to blush in shame.

"Ye'd best apologize, Col, and if I see yez afflictin' anymore poor little 'uns, I'll box yer ears and tell yer mum 'bout that meat pie."

With this ominous threat hanging over him, Col mumbled an apology, eyes glued to the ground in front of him. Fili remained silent, unwilling to let it go so easily.

"Now, scram, the lot of ye!" Brida commanded, bidding them depart by flinging her hands away from herself in a dramatic fashion. The scraggly boys swiftly departed, smarting under the girl's superior attitude. Besides, they'd only been having a little fun, no harm done.

Brida turned around and bestowed a bright and cheery smile upon the dwarves. "What's yer name, dearie?" She asked Fili in a motherly tone.

Would the shame never end? Mustering what little of his pride remained, Fili answered in a steady voice. "Fili, and this is my brother Kili."

"Oh, ye poor little things! That arm looks t' be quite hurt. Come along with me and me mum will have a good look at it, and offer ye some good, warm food besides."

Turning a kind eye on Kili, Brida leaned over so that she was face to face with the dwarfling. "What a darling! Such a precious lamb! Would ye like me t' carry ye?"

Before Kili could reply, Brida had swept him up into her arms and settled him on her bony hip. "Such a precious lamb!" She repeated loudly, planting a kiss on Kili's face. Behavior of this kind was quite uncommon to Kili, and he stared at the girl in confusion.

Taking Fili by the hand, Brida set off at a brisk pace, chattering nonstop the entire way. Fili didn't catch most of what she said, but he kept on hearing about Col "pinching some meat pies" and how some people had no decency, and how surprised her mum would be when she showed up with two lost dwarf children in tow.

Brida's parents owned one of the only two inns in town, the Blue Fox. It was the better of the two establishments, famous far and wide for the extraordinary meat pies that were served there. Though opposite in appearance, Brida and her mother shared an affinity for sheltering the poor and downtrodden of the world with their magnanimous hearts. Therefore, upon arriving at the Blue Fox, Fili was distressed to find he had two women fussing over him.

The innkeeper's wife was a tall, rotund woman with a jolly laugh, a wide smile, and bright red cheeks. Maintaining a steady stream of condolences towards the dwarflings, she fed them, bathed them, and sat them before the fire to dry off.

With practiced hands, she took care of Fili's wounds, surprisingly gentle for one who seemed so loud and rough. Brida persisted in holding Kili on her lap and talking to him, calling him a "poor lamb" and kissing him on the forehead.

With great difficulty, Fili was finally able to relate his entire story. Throughout his story, Brida and her mother would occasionally wipe tears from their eyes and bemoan the ill fortune of the dwarflings.

"'Ere now, I'll put the two of yez up for the night, and tomorrow we'll send out word that ye've been found. Me husband—'e's a good sort, if a little slow—knows most of the people what travel nearby. We'll find yer uncle, lads."

Thus assured, the brothers were tucked into a bed in one of the empty rooms. Wrapping his arms around his little brother, Fili pulled him close and whispered into his ear, "Don't worry, squirrel, Uncle will find us tomorrow, we only have to wait a little longer."

The two boys slowly drifted off to sleep, sure that tomorrow Thorin would rescue them from this foreign and frightening world they had found themselves in.

* * *

**A/N: I hope this chapter didn't seem rushed, it was sooo hard to write! :-(**

**In the next chapter, we'll check in with Balin, Dwalin, Dala, and ****Co., plus another familiar (cannon) face will make an appearance. Can you guess who it will be? ;-) We'll also see more of the Pikes.**

**Next update should be in a couple of days, see you then!**


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